"Dear Mr. Graham,
"What EVER can you want these flowers at my neck for? They have
been there all day, and are dead and spoiled. I can't IMAGINE what
good they'll be to you. Still, of course, if you REALLY care for
them you shall have them. I am so glad you like this hat. I shall
always like it NOW. Did you REALLY miss me yesterday? I had gone
to have my photo taken. Marguerite thinks it very good indeed,
but I am SURE it flatters me TOO much.

Yours truly,
L. Aldith Evelyn MacCarthy."

Now Mr. James Graham had a great friend in one of the before-mentioned
Courtney boys, Andrew by name. He was a handsome lad of eighteen,
still a schoolboy, but possessed of fascinating manners and a pair
of really beautiful eyes.

And, since his friend and companion Jim had taken to "having fun"
with "the girl MacCarthy," he objected to being left out in the
cold. So he began to pay marked attentions to Meg, who blushed
right up to her soft, pretty fringe every time he spoke to her,
and looked painfully conscious and guilty if he said anything at
all complimentary to her.

The other boy, Alan Courtney, was very tall and broad-shouldered,
and not at all good-looking. He had a strong, plain face, grey
eyes deeply set, and brown hair that looked as if he was in a
constant state of rumpling it up the wrong way. He was a University
student, and a great footballer, and he never diverted himself on
the long homeward journey in the way Andrew and his friend did.